


Be Careful For What You Wish For

by Kaikajo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hardly any fluff, More like protecting each other, Six Grounders, Well more like Clarke protecting Bellamy most of the time, is this too long to be considered a one shot? LOL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1685138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaikajo/pseuds/Kaikajo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke gets fed up by everyone in the camp because they anger her as if it is their sixth sense. After Clarke walks out of the camp after the final straw, courtesy to Bellamy, and into the forest to cool down, Bellamy goes after her and they are captured by the Grounders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Careful For What You Wish For

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for considering to read this super lengthy oneshot :D I decided not to split it into two chapters because there wasn't a good place to make a break point, so I decided to just keep it all into one chapter. I hope you enjoy the story (:  
> PS: there is hardly any fluff in here and it's really subtle. I see their relationship as slow paced so that's how I tried to make their relationship in the story like!  
> PPS: Clarke has an internal conflict with herself between living or dying, due to her mother's death. It is present throughout the whole story!  
> Sorry for any spelling errors too, I usually wrote whatever popped into my head first haha.

                Clarke was infuriated when she woke up; mostly at herself than at her captors. Her head pounded with an aching pulse, and bruises bloomed on her neck and cheeks. It took her a minute to stand up, but when she did, she banged her fist against the rocky walls that surrounded her. Water seeped from the cracks of the rocks, which was a blunt sign that she shouldn’t try to tear her way through the walls unless she wanted to drown. Clarke brought her thumb to her lips, biting on her bed ridden nails. She had to think of a way to get out before the Grounders came back and, most likely, tried to interrogate her.

She certainly didn’t want to be repeatedly tortured, especially by the Grounders. Who knows what their methods of torture were?

                She still had everything with her: her knife and sack of herbs. She tried to recollect her memory on how she was taken away. She was blowing off steam from the group, since every person she interacted with there just pushed her buttons as if it was a sixth sense to them.

                Especially Bellamy.

                The thought of him made her stomach turn and twist, and not in a good way either. He was the one that made her want to bang her head against a rock a thousand times. He was incredibly dense and stupid; he couldn’t read the atmosphere to save his life.

                She knew she couldn’t blame him for her getting taken away by the Grounders, but if he hadn’t pissed her off to the extent of her punching him in the jaw and stomping off outside of the gates, she wouldn’t be here at the moment. She could hardly see anything in the room, there was only a sheer of moonlight from the tiny hole impaled into the ceiling above her. She followed the light, her eyes resting upon a foot that got caught in it. She gasped, stumbling back. She still couldn’t see who it was, and she prayed to God that it wasn’t a corpse that she had been knocked unconscious next to.

                She hesitantly made way to the foot, grabbing her knife out of her strap. She silently crept her way, and poked the foot with the hilt of her knife. It didn’t move at first, but she heard a groaning sound echo throughout the room from the darkness around her. She yelped when the foot moved and backed away immediately, grabbing a jagged sharp rock in her other hand. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me who you are I _will_ stab you.” She loudly said, keeping her shoulders high and her hands in front of her face, squinting into the darkness on the other side to see who it was.

                “Cl… Clarke?” She heard a hoarse whisper husk out, followed by a bloody cough. She heard the figure move heavily onto its legs. She lowered her defenses, and her mouth hung open as she partially saw Bellamy under the light.

                “Bellamy?!” Clarke breathed out, shoving the knife back into her strap, but still keeping a grip on the rock just in case they encountered someone else. She walked towards him; a smile was tugged at her lips. He turned to look at her fully, and her smile faltered into a frown. The right side of his face was bloody, shreds of skin hanging from his cheeks in small, short lengths that ran down from his cheek to his collar bone. “Oh my god.” She placed her hand on the good side of his face, turning it so that she could see the wound. “What the hell happened?”

                He half smiled, his lips only curving up on the right side of his face as the other half twitched. “Followed a princess out of the castle and into a dragon’s lair, obviously.” He lightly replied back, wincing when the cold wind funneled into the room from the opening.

                “You’re such an idiot sometimes Bellamy!” She cursed under her breath, ripping a piece of her shirt, grabbing a flask of alcohol out of her backpack and pouring it onto the piece of cloth, dabbing at his wound. “You should know well enough not to follow me when I’m pissed, especially if it’s directed towards you.” She hissed, glaring at him.

                He frowned. “Well, either way if I hadn’t come you would have no chance of surviving here on your own, and you know that.” He countered back, grabbing the piece of cloth from her and dabbing his wound himself. She hated to admit it but he was probably right.

                “It would’ve been safer if you were back at camp though. It would be a lot easier for me to slip away from this place if I was a one man team. I would slow you down, and you also know that.” Clarke sighed, stepping back from him to give them distance. She didn’t look at him, but she could feel his burning stare drilling holes into her body. “I’ll try to find a way out while you tend to yourself. If you put the liquid of the flower on it, it’ll probably help close up the wounds.” Clarke told him, tossing him her backpack. He caught it last minute, and shuffled to a nearby rock to sit down.

                Clarke refocused her goal on how to get out of the room. There were no stairs in sight, and the room was filled with boxes and boulders. What was minutes felt like hours as she scavenged every box, finding a few helpful items like knives, cloth, and more emergency items, but no way to get out. She growled in frustration, clutching the side of a box until her knuckles turned white. She didn’t want to draw attention to Bellamy that she was becoming agitated again. “Clarke, come here.” She heard him whisper, motioning her to come over. He was standing now, and the cloth was tucked into his pocket. She came over without a word, almost stomping over to where he was. If he noticed, he decided to brush off the anger she emitted.

                “Reflect some light over here, will you?” He told her, brushing the sandy floor beneath them. She went to the moonlight, that was about to be covered by the clouds in any second. She took out her knife and found an angle to shine the light towards the floor where Bellamy was. Even though it was small, it just enough for them to see part of a thin outlining of a perfect square carved into the ground. He motioned her to come over with the knife, and she gave it to him. He wedged it in between the hollow linings of the square and slanted it sideways, where the box opened up, and revealing stairs.

                “Are you kidding me?” Clarke breathed out, a grin spreading over her face as she hugged Bellamy, who laughed and returned her hug. She was too happy to feel awkward or embarrassed by how she reacted, and released her grip as quickly as she initiated it. She didn’t notice the reluctant motion he gave when she let her arms go limp at her sides, ending the hug. He threw her backpack back at her and stretched his arms, then turned to go down the stairs.

                “Whoa hey what are you doing? I’ll go first and see if it’s clear.” She grimly said, looking at him with scrunched up eyebrows.

                He rolled his eyes. “Please for the love of God you’ll just get yourself killed if you go first.” He had no other words to say, and before she could argue back he already slipped down into the black abyss. She bit her lip and took her knife out, quickly following him as she closed the hatch on her way out. It was completely dark, and she couldn’t hear the footsteps of Bellamy at all. Her heart started to race at an irregular speed as she clutched her knife close to her side. She was going down so fast, that she bumped into something in front of her.

                “Watch where you’re walking, Princess.” Bellamy smirked at her. She let out a breath of relief, realizing she had bumped into Bellamy. She wanted to so badly rest her forehead on his back, smelling his scent of blood and mint leaves as a reassurance he was actually with her. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was terrified of the Grounders, and being on their territory didn’t help her fear any better. She slid the dagger into his hand.

                “You use that and I’ll use the rock.” She told him solemnly.

                “Should I trust that you can defend yourself with that rock?” He asked her lightly, twisting the dagger around his fingers.

                “I trust that you can defend yourself with that dagger.” She snapped back. He looked at her quizzically, but she looked straight ahead. If only one of them could make it out alive, she was going to make sure it was him, even if he was stupid and reckless and an idiot, the camp needed him more. With her mom gone, she really didn’t have a burning desire to live anymore. Of course she wouldn’t kill herself, but if she was face to face with a Grounder, she would probably let them kill her.

                Heck, if she was alone right now, she probably would’ve given up and let the Grounders torture her. But Bellamy was with her, and she couldn’t let him die.

                It was pitch black below. From the light above them, they could make out burnt out torches in the box. Bellamy and Clarke glanced at each other with pursed lips, feeling the chill in the air. He grabbed a thick wooden stick. “You found some matches in the boxes right? Light it up.” He mumbled to her. Her shaking hands found the matches in the bag. She tried to light it, but to her frustration, her hands trembled too much. He didn’t sigh like she thought he would when he took the matches from her. He only looked at her with bewilderment and swapped the items with her.

                When the torch lit, they waved it in front of them, and were welcomed with a dirt tunnel, moist and unstable. “Well… here’s our way out - hopefully.” She murmured, wiping the sweat on her palms onto her jacket. He didn’t say anything, but motion his head for her to follow him. There was an awkward silence, followed by several loud banging noises above them that echoed throughout the tunnel.

                “Why were you captured too?” She asked again, destroying the silence between them. Her voice sounded unfamiliar in the tunnel, echoing.

                He looked at her as if _she_ was the idiot. “How many times have I told you how dangerous it was to wander by yourself in the god damn forest alone? Don’t answer that. It was _more_ than enough times and you didn’t get it through your head that this scenario could happen, which it did, and if, which you were, captured by Grounders.”

                Clarke bit her lower lip. “Well, you still didn’t answer my question.” She quietly said, glancing down, her eyes hard. She heard him give a sigh, his breath going up into the air.

                “I…” he started, but sighed the rest of the words he would’ve said back out. “I have the job to make sure everyone is safe in the camp.” He started slowly, carefully nit picking his words. Clarke felt something inside her deflate. She didn’t know why she felt… disappointed? She didn’t know if she wanted him to say what he was going to announced before he paused. “So I followed you, and then we were greatly outnumbered, two versus ten? We didn’t stand a chance. You were kneed in the gut and knocked in the head before you passed out.” He winced at the memory. “I don’t know what else happened after I saw that, I kind of blacked out, my body moved on its own, everything was red. Well we both know the outcome of the fight now.” He had peeled the rest of his dead skin that was hanging off his face after he finished, tossing it onto the ground, which bothered Clarke.

                “Well, you’re in no condition to fight, so I’ll protect you. The camp needs you.” Clarke told him after a minute, reassuring herself that she could definitely make him survive. No matter how ticked off he made her or how much she despised him, she could never forgive herself if he didn’t make it out of this hell hole and she did.

                He laughed at her declaration and looked at her in the eye. “You? Protect me? It’s usually the other way around, Princess.” He told her, amused. “The rest will never forgive me if you die, so just follow my lead.”

                She rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to start another argument with him, so she kept the topic light. “The last time we did, you almost lead us into a god forsaken hole with spikes coming from the bottom.” He nodded, admitting defeat for the first time Clarke has ever known. “Oh my God, are you actually dropping this argument? Wow, Bellamy Blake. What a disappointment.” She exaggerated; he glared at her, but in an unharmful way. She grinned.

                He moved his jaw up and down, wincing. “I’ll refrain from talking. I feel like half of my face might fall apart. Feel free to talk to the darkness though.” He responded back, snapping his jaw back shut.

                Her lips formed a straight line. “I’ll tend to it right when we get back, I promise.” She sucked in air sharply as she said that and glanced at him quickly. Her words were left hanging in the air; her unstable promise lingered around them heavily. The tunnel then branched off into two pathways, both much wider and filled with old wooden boxes.

                “Now where the hell do we go now?” Bellamy snarled, annoyed by the whole situation now. Of all the things that could’ve happened to them, they had to be captured by Grounders.

                Then they heard low whispers and leather shoes hitting the soft dirt. Without a second of hesitation, he pushed Clarke behind an old wooden box, knocking her down so that her head wasn’t sticking up. “Stay there and don’t get up until I say so.” His voice was gruff and husky, alarmed. He went behind another box that was across from her. He stuck the torch into the ground heads up, the fire extinguishing as the smoke filled into the air. Bellamy tried whipping the smoke away, but it wasn’t working, and the Grounders were coming closer. Clarke tore off her jacket and balled it up, tossing it as hard as she could across to Bellamy. She heard it plop on the floor, and hoped that he was smart enough to use it to put it over the torch so it could cover up the smoke.

                “They should be awake by now. Don’t kill them until Anya gets the information she wants.” A rough voice echoed into their ears. Two or three other Grounders were with him, quiet and silent. They were each holding burning lamps as they made their way through the tunnel. They were on the opposite side of the one pathway Bellamy and Clarke were in.

“And if they have escaped?” The other one asked with obvious discomfort in his voice. Clarke’s eyes widened as she heard that.

“We are as good as dead then, obviously. They aren’t smart enough to find the way out though, there’s nothing to worry about. We are handling with a bunch of undeveloped beings.” The other man reassured him.

Clarke could hear Bellamy’s own ragged and sharp breathing from across the tunnel. She was worried that they might hear his breathing, but it abruptly stopped when they came into hearing range.

                Their voices weren’t distinctable anymore as they disappeared deeper into the tunnel. The first one to move was Bellamy, who crawled out from behind the box. He stood up, brushing off clothes. Clarke got up carefully, looking at him with worried eyes. “How are you feeling?” She asked carefully, staring off into the darkness. He was silent for a second too long for her to feel okay about him.

                “Feeling fine. We need to keep moving so hurry up.” He replied back, quickly changing the subject. She felt her way through the darkness, until she felt the familiar fabric and had a dose of his scent fill her nose. She gave him the matches, in which he ignited the torch again. “Nice save, princess.” He sighed out, slouching. He put her jacket around her shoulders in a messy way. He perked up again. “We have to move quickly now, they’re going to find out we’re gone.” Bellamy told her with urgency, putting his hand behind her back as they ran to the other pathway where the Grounders came from.

                She gripped the rock tightly, squeezing it so hard that blood oozed from the wound on top of her hand. She wiped it against her jeans. “If you feel any discomfort, let me know.” She told him sternly. His laugh was airy.

                “How cute. Are you worried about me now?” He asked, a playful smile tugged at the corners of his lip.

                She frowned. “Bellamy don’t joke around, I’m serious.”

                “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you when we get out of this hell hole.” He replied back, still smiling. Sure enough, they saw an opening, dark blue with tall shadows that danced across it. Clarke felt a breath of relief as they hobbled their way to the entrance. As they reached it, the outside world came into view, the moon shining down on the forest; they didn’t have time to enjoy the fresh air or the scenery. They came face to face with two Grounders. Bellamy and Clarke both stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide open and frozen. The two Grounders recovered from their shock much quickly, pulling out their knives. “ _Clarke_!” Bellamy shouted at her. She perked up at the sound of her name, snapping out of her shock. The two Grounders were coming straight to them at full speed. “Run!” He shouted. They both bulleted off the opposite way.

                _God dammit!_ Clarke snarled, she wasn’t supposed to get separated from Bellamy, and now she had no idea where he was. She was too immersed in her thoughts that she tripped over a trap wire, a heavy log with spikes swung at her at full speed. She didn’t have time to think of what to do, like she usually does before an action. She dropped to the ground as quick as she could; one of the spikes brushed her forehead. It struck the Grounder behind her, slamming him into a tree. She laid there for a little longer, her eyes hazy and her breath ragged. She finally pulled herself up onto her knees, her elbows buckled and her face fell into her hands.

                _Maybe if I didn’t move, this would’ve ended. If I had just let it hit me…_ Clarke thought hollowly in her head as she stood up. She turned around, but avoided looking at the Grounder. She could see him in her peripheral vision, his eyes were still open and his mouth opened up slightly. She shuddered.

                She shook her head and ran back to the entrance of the cave. She slapped herself for having such thoughts of wishing to die. She was brought back to her senses as she felt the wind whiplash her hair around, the sweet scent of honey filled her lungs from the trees around her. Bellamy needed her, and she couldn’t let him die. Visions flashed around in her head as she remembered his condition: sloppy, sluggish, and in a daze. Clarke knew he was probably poisoned when the Grounders attacked him – the Grounders always poisoned their weapons. She neared the river, and broke out of the forest. She quickly scanned the rocky area, her head spinning. She spotted Bellamy and a Grounder, wrestling each other on the ground. Bellamy was pinned to the ground. Clarke sprinted over to them, clutching the rock in her hand. She screamed at the top of her lungs as she lunged towards the Grounder. The Grounder looked at her in alarm; her eyes darted over to Clarke’s loosening her hold on Bellamy. Clarke crashed into the Grounder as they rolled over the sharp rocks. Clarke sucked in her breath as the Grounder and her were separated after the impact of their collision.

                “Clarke…” She heard Bellamy’s voice loud and clear, but he was also distant in her ears. He seemed so far away even though he was only three feet away from her. He couldn’t get up, no matter how hard he tried. The poison was already in too deep for him to function right.

                Clarke looked back at the Grounder, who tilted her head to the side and stared at her. She looked like she was dissecting her with her eyes, eyeing her like she was an alien. It made Clarke shudder. Clarke saw her knife, glinting in the moonlight near the edge of the cliff. Clarke threw the rock at the Grounder quickly, so she wasn’t expecting it. It hit her neck, piercing it, but not deep enough to kill her. The Grounder ran towards her, obviously furious with Clarke now. _Just a little more…_ Clarke thought to herself. Her voice sounded so desperate in her head, that she surprised herself. She grabbed the knife and just as she turned around she slashed blindly in case the Grounder was behind her. The Grounder ducked and lunged towards, pushing her off her feet and off the cliff. Clarke heard Bellamy scream her name, but that was the only thing she heard. She felt the dread rise in her heart as it accelerated. She had failed to save him, she had wished to die so many times after she found out her mother was gone, that her wish was finally granted.

Tears pricked her eyes as she cursed to herself on how weak she was. She wanted to live, she wanted to save him.

The Grounder had grabbed her arm right before Clarke could fall. She smiled at Clarke, and put Clarke’s hands on the rock so that she could hang onto the cliff.

                Clarke felt herself breath again, since her mind wasn’t in chaos anymore.

                “Now stay here like a good girl while I end the life of your loved one.” The Grounder quietly said.

                She was just playing with them. It dreaded Clarke even more.

                When the Grounder left, Clarke closed her eyes and started to breathe through her nose, out through her mouth. She cleared her mind, and threw her knife on top of the cliff so she could hold herself with both of her hands. She didn’t dare to look down, so she glanced around to see if she could find a footing. A rock bulged out of the cliff to her luck. She inched her way to the right, towards it. Her arms were numb, and she couldn’t feel the little rocks that impaled her fingers. Her legs were shaking as she hefted them on top of the ledge. She didn’t allow herself to sit down, every second she wasted, the chances of Bellamy dying increased. She grunted as she raised herself back to the top, smirking to herself.

                The Grounder made a terrible mistake on letting her live. Their weakness was their ego. Clarke saw the Grounder and Bellamy fighting again, but he was a sorry sight to see. He could hardly lift his hands, and he swung blindly at the Grounder with a rock in his hand. He was still conscious enough to block any of her deadly blows though.

                Clarke grabbed the knife and gripped it with her life as she inched her way towards them. Bellamy locked eyes with her for a second, and it cost him a dodge he could’ve blocked if he didn’t see her. He was knocked off his feet, and the Grounder raised her arm to stab him on the chest. She jumped the Grounder from behind, one hand holding a knife to her neck and the other grabbing her hair, as Clarke cleanly sliced her throat.

                The Grounder fell to the ground head first, immediately dying after the fatal blow. Clarke dropped the knife, and threw her hands in her hair as she grabbed it, shaking. She had killed two people without hesitation. She collapsed to the ground next to Bellamy, who propped himself up with one elbow.

                And then she cried.

                Clarke cried into the air, sobbing loudly, not caring if she seemed weak or vulnerable. She was so tired; she just wanted to fall and go to sleep right then and there. The slight touch from Bellamy’s finger brought her back to reality. She snapped her head down to look at Bellamy wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Right, right… antidote…” Clarke sniffled, propping him up against a rock. “Stay with me okay?” She whispered to him.

                “I think the one that needs to stay is you, Princess.” He mumbled back. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. It was meant to be strong, but it was weak, terrifyingly weak.

                “Damn it, Bellamy!” Clarke shouted. “I swear to god if you _die_ on me I will kill you!” She trudged back to the Grounder corpse, trying to find a pouch of antidotes.

                She heard him laugh lightly. “If I’m dead you can’t kill me then, use your head sweetheart.” He joked, grinning like an idiot. This Grounder’s antidote was labeled with pictures of the weapon. Clarke sighed in relief.

                “Look, do you remember which weapon hit you?” Clarke quickly mumbled as she scattered the antidotes in front of him. “Remember. If you don’t I-“ Clarke stopped and shut her mouth. She couldn’t say she would kill him again. “If you don’t remember I will make sure you’ll get hell from me Bellamy.” He looked at her and gave her a helpless look, but looked down at the antidotes. As he examined them, Clarke went back to the body and took every weapon off of her. Clarke knew it couldn’t have been a knife that hurt him. She scanned the row of weapons twice, before narrowing it down to the one weapon that could definitely make the mark: the mace.

                She crawled over to Bellamy and plucked the blue fluid filled bottle. He looked alarmed, but she placed a hand on his head. “Trust me.” Clarke whispered to him sternly.

                “I swear to god if you kill me you _will_ feel hell.” He coughed out. He snatched it from her hand and gulped it down. His free hand was lightly on the arm that she had in his hair, which made her shiver. His touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if it was okay. The hand holding the bottle fell limp to his sighed, and he looked up at the sky. It was starting to get lighter. They both perked up as they heard rustles and movement in the bushes in front of them. Clarke immediately grabbed the weapons in front of her, crouching beside Bellamy and raising them in front of her face. She was terrified and anxious. A familiar head popped out of the bushes, and it was Monty. His mouth was gaped open.

                “Dear lord-“ He abruptly halted and went back into the bushes. “I FOUND CLARKE AND BELLAMY!” They heard him shout loudly, causing groups of birds to fly away. He suddenly jumped out of the forest again and sprinted to them. “You guys look _terrible_.” He grimaced at the sight of the both of them, and that was when the aching in her entire body started again. Her adrenaline was gone, non-existent now. She collapsed to the ground, groaning.

“Clarke don’t fail on me now. If I can make it you can.” Bellamy growled to her, pulling at her arm to sit up.  “ _You’ll get hell from me if you fall asleep_.” A hint of life came back into his eyes as he said that, and Clarke sighed in relief. She chose the right antidote.

The rest of the group came into view as they jogged towards them. Octavia had her hand over her mouth as she saw the both of them, broken and bloody. “Damn it, Clarke!” Finn growled as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She yelped in pain.

“Fucking hell.” Bellamy sighed. “Finn don’t touch her. At all. Or ever.” He told him, shaking his head. He was too weak to throw a punch at him, and he wasn’t going to waste his energy on some small jealousy he had, not right now anyways. Maybe later.

Bellamy could feel the strength returning to his body. He could fully open his eyes now without feeling like there was fifty tons sitting on them.  “We gotta go. We’ve been here for too long and the Grounders are probably right under our noses right now.” Bellamy told them loudly, wobbling as he stood up. Octavia caught his arm before he could fall back down. He glared at her. “Who the hell said _she_ could come here?!”

She looked at him and frowned. “Don’t start this right now, Bell. We all know you’re fucked up really badly so keep quiet.” She told him, supporting him.

Finn went to go help Clarke, who looked at Bellamy, pleading him for someone else. “As long as I’m alive I’m still the leader.” Bellamy glanced at Finn. “I swear to god did you not hear me? Monty, Jasper, help Clarke. Raven and Finn get the weapons and antidotes. We can use those for later.” Clarke silently thanked him through eye contact. She really couldn’t handle Finn touching her, every time he did, it stung. She didn’t feel the electricity that used to run through her body when he did, before she knew he was dating Raven.

Bellamy and Clarke stole glances and smiles at each other on the way back. Before she fell asleep, he snuck a light touch on her cheek. It was warm and brief, but it was the most comforting thing she felt in a long time – and it felt real.


End file.
